


Sensitive

by ToWhomItMayConcern



Series: The Mandalorian's Games [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alludes to over-stimulation, Cumplay, F/M, Fluff, Oral Sex, Pegging, Praise Kink, Smut, Sub!Din, Sub!Mando, Vaginal Fingering, dom!reader, helmetless Din
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:00:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24972724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToWhomItMayConcern/pseuds/ToWhomItMayConcern
Summary: Your Mandalorian returns after being away for four months on a job, so that causes for a celebratory reunion.
Relationships: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Fem!Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/You
Series: The Mandalorian's Games [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1648747
Comments: 3
Kudos: 123





	Sensitive

It’s four weeks before you see him again. 

This bounty in particular is a risky and long trip, a trip so dangerous that Din wouldn’t even let you argue your case to go with him.

“We can’t bring the Child and we can’t leave him alone for too long,” he told you. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

He was right and you knew it. So instead of arguing with him for the sake of your pride—and out of the fear of never seeing your Mandalorian again, as you always felt each time he left without you on a job—you spent as much time as you could with him before he took his leave; time that left your body sated and Din’s used but deeply satisfied as well. 

“Be careful,” you told him. 

Din checked to his belt one last time, making sure the tracking fob was seated and the comlinks were up and working. “I will. Do the same, please,” he lightly teased. 

You grinned. “Of course.”

Now, your body thrums with excitement at the sound of the ramp opening and closing. You immediately climb your way down to the hull of the ship and as soon as Din turns around from the frozen body you jump into his arms. 

He grunts and stumbles in his footing, but years of training help him stand right back up with you still clinging on to him and he wraps his arms around you. 

“I missed you.” You whisper, burying your face in the crook of his neck; he tilts his head to the side to give you better access. 

“I missed you too, cyar’ika.”

You pull back and give the visor a big, sloppy kiss with enthusiastic emphasis. “I _really_ missed you.” You wiggle your eyebrows playfully. 

“Yeah?” It sounds like he’s smiling. “What do you want to do about it?”

You love it when he’s like this; compliant, letting you take control—what makes it even better is knowing that at _any_ moment he could easily overpower you—and showing his most vulnerable self; they’ve become more and more frequent lately, to which you have _no_ quarrel with. 

“Hmm,” you exaggerate. “I think I wanna use that...you _know_ ,” you say shyly to Din’s amusement. “Do you think we have any more of that oil?”

“We do.” He answers right away, but there’s a strain in the back of his throat as he says it. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask concernedly. “If you don’t wanna do it, we don’t have to, Din. You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” he breathes. “It’s just…”

He’s embarrassed. You can tell by the way the helmet shifts away from you, looking down at his feet. 

“Hey,” you whisper and place a soft kiss at the only thing standing in between you and his lips. “You can wait to tell me when you’re ready?” You give him the option. 

Din shakes his head and sighs, still retaining that tight grip on the back of your thighs. “I...didn’t think I’d enjoy it as _much_ as I do.”

You blink. It takes you a moment, and in that moment he’s perfectly still to the point you’re not even sure he’s breathing anymore. Then—

“ _Oh!_ ” You huff with realization. Then you giggle, because it’s funniest thing you’ve heard all day and your poor Mandalorian now thinks that you’re laughing at him—

“Listen,” you palm both cheeks in your hands to make sure he’s looking at you. “That’s _okay_ , Din. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I enjoy it a lot too, and it brings me about the _same amount_ of pleasure as it brings you. So just hush and let me take care of you now.”

He grunts, but there’s no mistaking the laugh behind it. “You sure are a bossy woman, aren’t you?” 

You laugh, throwing your head back in the process. He starts moving then, your vision blurring from the suddenness of it, and look back up at the helmet. 

“Oh _someone’s_ eager.” You coo. 

He chuckles lowly through the vocoder and tightens his grip around your thighs just before dropping you onto the cot. You lick your lips and sit back on your hands, crossing your legs and watching the silent but trembling armored figure await for your instructions. 

“This time,” you pause, biting your lip. “This time I want _you_ to tell me what you want me to do to you. Every little detail of it.”

The clenching of his fists is a delight to see. You know he’s struggling not to just throw himself down on his knees and touch you, beg you to fuck him like you’d ordered to, and it brings a warmth in your lower stomach. 

“Go on,” you encourage lightly at his silence. 

A crackles illuminates from the helmet, and you think vaguely that it’s a moan he tried to cut off. You uncross your legs and spread them just a little, giving him a tease as you settle more comfortably on the cot. And wait. 

“I—” His voice is strained, helpless from weeks of not being touched. “I...I want to kiss you. I want—” He starts taking off his gloves, slowly, as if he’s the one teasing you now, all the while the visor stares right at your face. “—to _taste_ you, touch you, to feel your skin against mine. I want you to mark me, to remind me who I belong with.” Din kicks off his boots next, the chestplate soon after, and the plates on his thighs, vembrance, until he’s in nothing but his dark clothing and the helmet. “I want you to _fuck_ me.” 

You grin as he finally walks towards you, getting down on his knees as soon as he’s in between your spread legs. You try your best to keep your breaths even as his hands plant themselves on your covered knees, giving them a squeeze; the pressure makes your pussy flutter with excitement, and when you subconsciously lick your lips, a growl fills the silent bunk. 

“ _Please_ ,” he breathes. “Let me...let me _kiss_ you.”

You can’t deny him this; besides, you’re just as eager as he is. With a nod you help him practically throw the helmet off and the first heated kiss he lands on your lips is like a breath of fresh air, filling your lung with familiar warmth that brings nothing but comfort and ecstasy throughout your body. The moan you receive in the kiss sends a shiver through you, your tongue dancing with his, teeth clashing every now and then, but it’s not painful enough to stop the sloppy kiss. 

“Din,” you break the kiss for air, letting him trail his lips over your jaw and down the slope of your neck. You gasp when he adds teeth, his hands now sliding up your legs until they reach your hips. “ _Din_.”

“ _Star_ ,” he groans into your neck. 

It’s very hard to stay in control now when you’re finally feeling the press of his lips against your skin, when his hands mold the flesh of your hips, working their way up your sides—slightly tickling you in the process which makes Din chuckle—and up to your chest, groping your breasts with careful ease. Your nipples harden under his touch and you close your eyes, surrendering yourself to his caresses as they become deeper and harsher, teeth nipping over the wet spots on your neck and your shoulder until they’re at your collarbone. 

“Let me do this first,” he says, but comes out like a question, asking you for permission. You’re about to ask _what_ it is he wants to do when his hands fall from your breasts and land on the waistline of your pants. “Is this okay?”

You nod, too enthralled in him to use your voice. His smile is so bright and full of a light that is rarely seen outside of the safety of your arms—and the Razor Crest, of course—with swollen lips and a mess of hair atop his head thanks to his helmet and your wandering fingers. His own slips beneath, hot fingers that leave the muscles he touches jumping and quivering, and swiftly pulls your trousers down your legs, throwing them over his shoulder like they’re a nuance to his existence. 

Lips—soft, not as chapped, just _perfect_ for your trembling skin—trail up your left leg, giving your ankle a squeeze as he keeps a steady grip on it, maneuvering your leg to his liking. You bite down on your bottom lip and watch as he adds new marks to your supple flesh, getting closer and closer to your hot and aching core. 

From here, you can inspect him without his reassurances that he’s perfectly unscathed; he’s lied about it before for your benefit, so now you pay _extra_ attention to him when he returns from a job. So far, you find nothing that warrants any special treatments, and his short, blunt nails are digging into your waist and his mouth is hovering right over your clothed pussy, inhaling like it’s the most alluring scent to him. Your mouth waters and your hips move on their own accord, tilting upwards towards his mouth with a deep urgency. 

Din laughs, all deep and broken, and hooks his fingers to drag your panties down next, the cool air greeting you. His eyes, somehow even _darker_ than before, gaze at the space between your thighs, licking his lips just before his head snaps down towards your pussy, enveloping your folds with an eager vigor that has you keening into his hold. 

“Din.” You whimper. “O- _oh_.”

His tongue scratches against your clit, barely brushing against the hood before slipping back down towards your slit, slurping at your juices. You gasp in surprise when he pulls you towards him, bringing you closer to his hungry mouth. His light stubble scratches against your inner thighs, but you welcome the irritated burns as long as it means keeping him between your legs; they start to shake under his assault, his teeth grazing through your folds before he moans, sending a wave through your pussy that has your hips buckling. 

“I needed this,” he groans into you, nose pressed against your bundle of nerves. “I needed this so badly cyar’ika you have _no idea_.”

“Then show me,” you breathe softly. “Make me _cum_ , Din.”

The whine that escapes his plump lips is a magical, pathetic sound that makes your pussy clench, adding fuel to the growing fire in the pit of your lower stomach. He dives back in and goes straight for your clit, hollowing his cheeks as he sucks the sensitive pearl. 

“Oh oh _fuck_.” Your arms shake as they stand your upper body up, not wanting to miss a moment of his head between your legs. 

Din tightens his grip on your hips and scrapes his teeth against your clit. You moan and throw your head back, panting as you feel the coils tighten and strain against the onslaught of your incoming orgasm. 

“F-fingers.” You groan wantonly. 

He complies immediately, inserting a single finger inside your quivering cunt. Your back arches under the intrusion, but it’s still not enough for you. He must sense it in the way your fingers grip his hair, because as soon as the first tug hits he slides another finger inside, curling them when he’s knuckles deep. He pumps them slowly at first, letting you adjust to the thickness of his fingers, and thrusts them faster once your moans and cries become louder and needier. 

“I’m—” You’re cut off by your whine and his groan alike, his fingers hitting a spot so deep inside you, so electric that it’s starting to get hard concentrating or even _thinking_ at this point. 

“ _Please_ ,” Din begs. “Cum on my fingers, please mesh’la.”

His voice, gruff like always but somehow lighter with the lust and excitement coursing through him, brings you closer to the edge, your thighs tightening around his head. His lips attach themselves to your clit again the same time his fingers pump and curl. The tip of his calloused fingers scratch against your g-spot and you cry out from the increased pressure in your abdomen. 

“ _Yes yes yes_.” You repeat like a mantra, your pussy fluttering and clenching around his fingers hard, drawing him in with a feverish clutch. 

The coil becomes hotter and hotter until it finally snaps with one final twist of his wrist, and you’re cumming with a silent scream and rigid muscles, falling onto your shoulders—your back stays arched, hips canted towards his hungry tongue as he laps up every single drop you give him. Your lungs ache with the lack of oxygen flowing through, but it’s so hard to breathe when he’s still on you like this, fingers still moving inside you and scraping against your walls and his tongue still licking at every inch of your aching cunt. 

“ _Din_.” You warn breathlessly, pushing his head back subtly and not so gently—you’ll make up for the scratches against his scalp later. 

Din finally lifts his head up completely. His lips and chin are absolutely covered in your juices, slick and shiny in the dull lighting of the ship, but the image is nothing short of erotic for you, painting a beautiful canvas for you to remember and cherish on the days that he’s gone. 

You quickly pull your shirt off and open your arms towards the man you love, whispering a soft “ _C’mere_.”

He wastes no time in pulling off any and all barriers between your skin and his and crawls atop you, carefully lowering himself down until his towering figure completely covers yours. You gently cup his cheeks in your hands and bring him down for the first soft, slow kiss of the night; the taste of yourself is prominent and strong in his mouth, but you lick it up with quiet moans of appreciation. 

His hands wander down the slope of your body, getting used to the feel of you again, showing his appreciation and—a part of you believes that he’s doing this subconsciously—whispering praises in Mando’a on your lips as his hips grind down against yours, his cock fitting between your bodies with beads of precum already dripping onto your stomach. 

“Want me tooo—” you pause for effect, dipping your hand between and wrapping your fingers around his thick girth. “—return the favor?” 

Din chuckles, but it’s mixed with a moan as you squeeze him. “N-not sure if I can hold out,” he stammers. “Want you to fuck me _now_.”

You grin, all wide and cheeky, and nod your head, signalling for him to get up, but not before another sensual kiss; this one sparks your pussy right back to life, with your teeth biting down on his bottom lip and lightly pulling until the flesh is red and irritated, which rewards you with a snap of his hips against your grip and a shuddering breath across your face. 

“Lay down,” you tell him. 

He obliges, helping you up to a standing position before settling back into the bunk. You quickly grab the strap and the oils, fitting it around your waist until it’s comfortably settled, then pouring a generous amount of the oil on the strap and in the palm of your hand, walking towards the trembling Mandalorian. 

He lifts his legs up so that his feet are placed on the cot, watching your every move as your knees weigh down on the flimsy mattress. 

“You know,” you say, scooting closer to him so you can apply the oil. “I _really_ did miss you.” You say this with a punctuated thrust of your oil-slicked finger into his puckered hole.

Din moans and buckles into you, biting down on his lip to keep the rest in his chest. “I...I can tell.” 

You giggle and remove your finger, ignoring his whine of protest and situating yourself at his entrance. His chest rises with every heavy breath, perfect soft hair sprung out in different directions, and the imagery is complete for you when you slowly slide in and watch as he mouth opens in a silent gasp and his dark chocolate eyes close in pleasure. 

You wait patiently for him to adjust, taking in every shuddering breath that leaves him. When he nods and whines, “ _Move_.”, you pull out just as slowly as you pushed in, continuing the leisurely pace until he starts begging for more—you grin, just like _he_ does when he’s fucking you into oblivion—and thrust harder and faster, shifting your hips to find the perfect spot. 

He chokes and sputters once you tilt slightly upwards, his entire lower half jerking up towards yours. 

“You like that?” You pant, muscles straining from the excursion, but it’s a welcoming ache that proves worthy when Din withers beneath you and nods. You grab on to his calves and sink your nails into the bronze skin. 

“ _Fuck_.” He gasps, canting his hips up to meet your thrusts. “Fu— _cyar’ika_ I’m not gonna last long.” 

True to his word, you can _feel_ just how close he is; from the way he gasps on to your bicep, careful not to hurt you, how his legs look like they just want to wrap around your hips and bring you impossibly closer and deeper into him. 

“I know.” 

You stop, just for a second, and quickly lean down to peck his lips. His hand gathers a handful of your hair and kisses you back, a small trail of spit slithering from the corner of his mouth, but you’re both too wired to care about it. 

“Touch me.” He breathes in your open mouth. 

You hum and look down at his neglected cock, red and pulsing against his stomach. Reaching out and taking him in your hand, you bend your knees a little and jerk him in time with your increasing thrusts, squeezing the tip of his cockhead each time your hand slides up. 

“C’mon,” you encourage. 

His moans become louder, and any other time you’d be scolding him to be quiet for the sake of the little guy asleep in his pod, but four kriffing weeks is enough to warrant this type of loud celebration. 

“I like the sounds you make for me,” you moan, feeling your lower stomach tighten and your toes growing numb from the upmost pleasure; seeing him let go like this makes you just as wrecked as you’re sure he feels right now. “Never want to stop hearing them.”

“Never.” He’s too far gone, so close to his impending orgasm, that nothing but mindless babbles fill your ears. “Wanna make you happy, wanna cum _so bad_ , mesh’la. Shit, _shit_ keep going right there Star—kriff I want you to cum again, _please_ cum with me.”

This man here and now is _nothing_ like the Mandalorian the galaxy sees—these breathless whimpers, all high pitched and taunt muscles under soft fat, slick skin and red lips with little teeth indents in them, his legs shaking and his nails digging now into the flesh of your hips, helping you move. They’re for _you_ and you only. 

“Okay baby,” you groan, jerking him faster as you feel his cock jump in your hand and see his muscles stretch and coil. “I want to cum for me like a _good_ boy, you can do that, can’t you?”

“Oh!” The cry comes out choked and broken, neck strained and red as he throws his head back. “Oh kriff I’m... _I’m_ —”

With three final hard and quick thrusts, spurts of hot cum fly towards his stomach and chest, your hand also being covered as you continue to milk him of everything he’s got. Your cunt pulses and clenches, and all it takes is for a simple weaseled _please_ for you to follow through, gasping and moaning until you can no longer stand on your own two feet. 

You sit there for a moment, still seated inside him as the both of you catch your breaths. Once you do, you pull out—Din hisses softly but assures you he’s _more_ than okay—and he surprises you when you undo the straps and go to move when he reaches out and grabs your wrist, bringing you down until you have to crawl towards his limp form. 

“Wha—?” Your breath hitches when he sticks his tongue out and laps at the remaining cum on your hand, groaning softly at the taste of himself, just as you did when you kissed his lips; you decide that you should help him clean up, and your version of that is leaning down and licking the pearls of white off his stomach and chest, his body all the while squirming under your searing mouth. 

“You’re going to be the death of me, my Star.” He whispers. 

The gleam in his eyes as he pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear and cups your cheek brings you the love and stability only you can find in him. “Yeah?” You tease. You slide your hand to his wet and abused hole, slipping just the tip of your finger inside. He clenches around you and growls, but it doesn’t sound as menacing as you think he wants it to be. 

He says your name, a clear warning, but you just can’t help yourself and lean further down until your lips hover above his cock, looking up at him to make sure he’s still watching. 

“I didn’t say we were done,” you tell him coyly. 

Before he can argue, you grab him and take his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue at the base. 

“FUCK!” He nearly screams, his body slouching over your crouched form as his whole body jumps. 

Yeah, this is going to be a _very_ long night. 

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: @aint-that-a-mcfreakin-bitch


End file.
